#i need to get to writing anyway Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[duckwithablog]

My life be exotic frr i mean who ever almost died of an explosion in school like?sad part is because of that i had to walk on the rain all to my house :( but I'm okay don't worry duckie!

-🐢 anon

🐢 anon what even happened-

IM GLAD UR OK BUT LIKE.... DAMN BRO.... YOURE NOT HURT OR ANYTHING RIGHT??

I am sending you all the warm drinks and blankets through the screen RIGHT NOW!!!!! Someone as awesome as u should NOT deserve a near death experience via explosion

[tunastime]

hiccuping tears into the shoulder + ranchers by chance?

hiccuping tears into their shoulder (1087 words) (x)

For the first time in a good, long portion of his life, Tango despises how silent the night gets. It's not without its natural noise—the balmy, sticky humidity and breeze in the grass, or the crickets, the cicadas quieting down, the sounds of animals rearranging themselves to a comfier sleeping arrangement. He should be doing the same, but he's sitting on the edge of the bed, his spine a rigid line. He can feel the blood in his body, he can feel the spaces where his muscles connect to each other, with every breath he can feel his lungs separate out the oxygen. It's at the very least startling, and at the very most, he feels like he might dissolve on the spot if touched. 

Tango knows how death feels—painless respawn and a few seasons of a life game behind him, but to feel someone else die, too. The echo of death alongside your own. He didn't like that! Not good at all. All his blood and heartbeat-y things are rushing around in his ears. He doesn't even hear Jimmy the first time he speaks up from the other side of the bed, with how his voice scrapes out.

"I didn't know they were aiming for us," Jimmy says.

"Of course not," Tango says, furrowing his eyebrows. "I know you didn't."

He's still looking at his hands, running his thumb over the lines in his palm and pushing into the tiny bones and muscle there. Jimmy flexes his hands like he can feel the pressure and bones moving around. He watches him fold his hand tight around each other and slump, pulling his shoulders to his chest. His breath squeezes in his chest as Jimmy deflates tiredly.

"I just don't want you to think—"

"I'm not gonna think this is your fault, alright?" Tango says, frowning at him. "Why would I?"

Jimmy sighs. His jaw works.

"Cause it usually is," he grits. Tango scrunches his nose on instinct, recoiling out of habit before he manages:

"That's not fair, man."

"This whole game isn't far!" Jimmy huffs, waving a hand about.

"Sure but—"

"But nothing, Tango. I just—I can't lose and drag you with me. That's more than not fair."

"I don't care."

"I care."

Before Tango can argue, though, he tastes the faintest hints of anger and frustration at the back of his mouth fade. He watches Jimmy's face contort as he tries to come up with a better sentence, something he probably thinks Tango deserves. Maybe an apology. 

Tango just looks at him. He kind of feels bad, that little bit of gut wrenching cold that trickles in, but mostly he's just confused. Jimmy's words bat around in his brain like dust particles. Dust bunnies. He definitely assumed they were done with this. That maybe Jimmy made peace like he did—though really he hadn't had that much time to make peace, if he's being honest. He's still bitter. He's sure a lot of people are still bitter. But in terms of Jimmy's whole situation? It's not like it could be helped. They just had to be careful. So Tango was being careful, and Jimmy was taking what Tango thought was a calculated risk, so he was mad, sure, but he couldn't really stay mad for a long time. So he takes a long breath and sighs it out his nose. It still tastes surprisingly reminiscent of smoke.

"So what are we going to do?" he asks softly. Jimmy inhales.

"I don't know," he says. "Go to bed? Wake up and start planning?"

Tango hums plainly. He likes that idea. The small spool of feeling in his chest that must belong to Jimmy gives a little tug, like it wanted to take him down with it. 

"Yeah," Tango says, voice coming hoarse. "Yeah, I think so."

For a moment, Tango runs his tongue over his teeth, runs his thumbs over the seams of his knees. He sighs, and then he leans into Jimmy's shoulder with a definitive huff. He's tired. From the ache in his bones, to the breathlessness of dying, to just taking in Jimmy's stress. Man. He's exhausted. Jimmy snorts quietly. He feels him press his cheek against Tango's head. The hand Jimmy had been fiddling with in his lap ends up at the base of his spine, splayed over the fabric. Tango squeezes his eyes shut.

"Thanks Tango," Jimmy says shakily. He sounds like he's on the knife's edge of crying, so Tango fumbles out a hand and lands it solidly on his knee. It's not a terribly comfortable thing to stretch one of his achy shoulders or biceps that far but he does anyway, and Jimmy huffs out a damp laugh. "Guess I'm just... pissed off."

Tango snorts.

"If you think you're pissed, just wait until they rile me up," he says into the fabric of Jimmy's shirt. Jimmy laughs. Tango tries to hold in a grin that he also smothers into his shoulder, but fails. Jimmy's hand skips over his knuckles and squeezes the hand on his knee.

"Sure thing, Rancher," he teases. Tango makes a half-suppressed noise of indignation, squeaking as he bolts upright. He nearly knocks into Jimmy's jaw as he untangles himself with all the grace of a cat trying to weasel out of someone's arms. 

"I'm just sayin'," he grumbles, crinkling his nose. "You seem like you're in a better mood though."

Jimmy sighs, rounding out his shoulders. 

"Think so," he says, working his cheek between his teeth. Tango feels the sensation of prodding in his mouth. Bleh. "Think so."

"Probably a good idea to make good on that sleeping... thing,” he says, reaching up to scrub at his eyes. He barely stifles a yawn as Jimmy stretches, twisting his tall body around in a way that feels surprisingly pleasant to Tango’s stiff muscles. He can’t imagine, especially with the way Jimmy holds all his emotions in his shoulders, that his upper back is doing him any favors. Jimmy makes a little noise in confirmation as Tango turns, attempting to make ample space for him in the small bed. He knows they’ll end up back to back at some point, but as he lies down, shoulder to shoulder, an easy comfort rolls over him. Sure there’s all the red blood rushing around in his ears, and sure he feels it right up on his skin like a bad rash, but for now, next to Jimmy, he shuts his eyes.

They’ll make this time count for something, at least.

[triglycercule]

yall who cast reverse animal themes on my horror and dust,,, why we got BUNNY horror and PUPPY dust

ok but on a real note i was DYING drawing this. i cant believe its my first time drawing the 1 of the trio in a maid dress!!!! id like to thank underfella and calvateyla for inspiring me; i wouldn't have graduated from shit art college without you guys ❤️💜 (inspo) (SOMEONE GET THIS DOG OUT OF HERE DUST HAS A FUCKING CHAINED COLLAR???? 💀💀💀)

i didn't know what to do for the background either so i just added funny photos. HERE. yes its a coincidence the memes are both horror and dust themed i totally didn't plan that

[trainingdummyrabbit]

ayin. i'm curious

one question in and im already having to pull up the cutscene dialogue. god. ok listen this is the most bullyable man in the whole entire world and he makes it so easy, but also I Do Fucking Love This Guy. i need to study him so bad its unreal.

im always a sucker for characters introduced as a "yeah theyre totally a player stand-in dont worry about it ^_^" and then they kick you in the fucking shins halfway through. and he is no exception. i am Notoriously endeared by characters with any amount of weird identity fuckery going on and Jesus Fucking Christ Dude.

the way that he is so solidly rooted in the core of everything that goes down in lobcorp, and yet how certain bits of his attitude and Personality are Wholly lost. how most of what we know of him is through secondhand accounts and recollections, and yet he refuses to let on anything about himself in his own memory of things. his perception revolves entirely around the people around him to a very, Very stark degree. im not sure if its just a side effect of the genre and execution of this story in particular or if im just making shit up, but.

hes not a loud character. something about that in tangent with how he completely splinters himself over and over in conjunction with the things that happened to them, its all very compelling. the way he tackles problems with this sort of analytical distance, unaware of or perhaps intentionally separating his own mess from what he feels he has to do-- while at the same time having it be so inextricably intertwined with Everything. he feels like the type of character to desperately want to simply point a direction and shoot, yet he gets in his own way time and time again, simultaneously on accident And on purpose. avoidant of And conscious of.

ill be real im just kind of spitballing the vague Idea of him in hopes of reaching something concrete. he's so intent on the straightforward "any means necessary," yet he sabotages himself every step of the way. its fascinating. such a strange form of self-destruction.

i wonder how he really feels about everything. how he felt, and then, what exactly it is that changed in him after the SoL project "completion". what exactly did he come to terms with through the course of ruina? was it something new he hadn't the room to process until then, or was it simply an understanding that he'd had for longer than that, that he'd simply never had the mind to voice it?

and then! the way he feels about the rest of the team-- how little he seems to speak of any particular bond between himself and them, and yet (iirc) he has photos of them all up in his office. how much of him is means to an end, and how much is compartmentalization of what he might actually feel? which does he want to be true?

does that cohere? he's such a messy tangle of things that never get spoken-- on purpose and otherwise-- that it makes him so difficult to Actually Read, and yet... and yet! what im saying is that benjamin saw something in him, and that is something worth studying-- not because of doubt, but because of a desire to truly Understand. something about the metaphor between Sun and Shadow, seeing things in the gaps burned between photos. fascinating specimen. i need to put him into a blender.

also hes one of the few characters capable of making me lose it just by seeing his basic png which has to count for something i guess

[keeps-ache]

i think i tapped on the explore page by accident some minutes ago, i've been scrolling for a good sec like 'why is this on my dash. i don't know any of these people. what's going on' lmfsvh

[hakaiart]

f to my parasite mu dreams </3 i thought i may as well finish this right now since otherwise id never post it

[roomba-mangga]

taking a little break from writing for a few days to cool down the brain but first... yaad&thistle au fic preview under the cut. this is clocking in at 12k atm, i haven't finished drafting all the scenes yet, but i am deeply enjoying this one.

[chronicowboy]

fuck it friday!

starting fuck it friday with an extract from the wedding timeloop in the hopes that it'll make me start writing again because i didn't write down buck's speech after my shower last night and i can't remember anything about it😭

"What the hell was that?" Maddie hisses at him, eyes wide and burning as she stares him down. Eddie doesn't know exactly what it is she's accusing him of, doesn't know if she caught his and Buck's moment at the altar, doesn't know if this is big sister protectiveness or just plain fury.

"I don't know," Eddie retorts, obstinate and desperate. He's a big brother, an eldest sibling, he can handle Maddie. "You're the one that yanked me into a supply closet."

"Because of whatever the hell happened up there." Maddie jabs an accusing finger at the wall, pointing through to the ceremony room. Eddie's heart freezes in his chest.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Eddie mumbles, cowering a little under her unimpressed eyebrows. She scoffs, folding her arms over her chest as she rolls her eyes in a move that would give Christopher a run for his money.

"Really?" She turns a little softer then, face scrutinising as she examines him. "You don't remember turning to face Buck so fast I kind of want to check you for whiplash?"

"Nope." Eddie swallows, thick and cloying.

"So then, you don't remember Buck looking at you instead of his wife?" The last word comes out like an accusation, and Eddie can only squeeze his eyes shut as it lodges itself between his ribs like a serrated knife.

"No," he chokes out, just a hiccupping breath as it falls out of him.

"Eddie." Maybe it's a Buckley thing, saying his name like it means more than it does. It knocks him sideways, and Eddie rests his shoulder against the doorframe just to keep himself upright. "What was that?"

"I don't know," he breathes. "I don't know, Maddie. I wish I did, but—" A sob rises in him unbidden, and Eddie presses his fist to his mouth like he's about to throw it up.

"Eddie, hey, what..." Maddie trails off as she steps closer, hands hovering just a few inches away from him like she's not quite sure if she can touch him without him shattering into pieces. It's a fair assumption, Eddie isn't sure either. And, really, despite all the people they have in common, neither of them know each other well enough to provide comfort. So, Eddie wraps his arms around himself and takes a deep breath. "Eddie, why did Buck look at you like he'd just seen you for the first time?"

and i shall tag @danielsousa @diazass @butchdiaz @shitouttabuck @try-set-me-on-fire if you guys have anything to share <3

[mrsoharaa]

I'm soo ready for fall! my self ship fall moodboard of me x Suguru! 🥰🍂🍁🎃🤎🧡❤️

🍂🤎 fall dates include; pumpkin patch wondering, crispy fall rainy kisses / dancing, cozy home baking (cookies, pies etc!) / movie marathons, enjoying the beautiful foliage of the bright colors of the trees, backyard bonfire with yummy tea/coffee while snuggled under a warm throw blanket, cute autumn pics / selfies, a nice peaceful walk around town to enjoy the beautiful fall weather, cute little picnic dates, bookstore stops, pumpkin picking + carving, attending to an autumn festival, hay rides / mazes, apple picking. 🤎🍂

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <333

[glass-oranges]

D3molish.

[its-tortle]

Hi! 💕 34 for the spotify wrapped ficlets? 🥰

hi riley! this is such a cute song and was definitiely fun to write 💗 thank you!

Sat in a pub on the Heath, first kiss, first Friday in June You asked what I tell my friends, said, "It's a glowing review" Baby, nothing much has changed, I guess your buzzcut, it grew But I'm still the girl with the blush, giving a glowing review

The little bell above the door rings as Bucky enters the cafe, and he checks his phone for the time. Only fifteen minutes late, he thinks. That’s still forgivable. He scans the tables that are busy with other Sunday-brunchers, and then spots his friends in the back left corner.

With a smile, he makes his way over to them. “Hey, guys.”

“Good morning,” Wanda greets. “You’re late.”

“And you’re wearing yesterday’s shirt,” Natasha adds.

Bucky frows and lets out an incredulous huff of a laugh. “What? You didn’t even see me yesterday.”

“Yeah, but you are very active on your Instagram story.” Natasha gives him a smug little smile as he sits down across from her.

“That,” he says with a pointed look in her direction, “is stalker behavior. And why am I being interrogated so early in the morning?”

“It’s after ten,” Wanda laughs.

Clint frowns at her. “That’s early.”

Bucky leans across the table to high five him. 

The girls roll their eyes, but say nothing for a moment as they all take a minute to look at the menu. Bucky knows what he wants, really. He’s been getting the blueberry waffles here since they first started coming.

Instead he looks around the bright, colorful space and lets the June sun fall on his face through the window and let’s himself think about last night, and this morning. He’s smiling into his hand before he knows it.

“Okay, Bucky,” Natasha interrupts his daydream. “Your grace period is over.”

“That was the grace period?”

Natasha doesn't respond. “Spill. I assume the date went well since you didn’t go home last night?”

And Bucky really isn’t good at being subtle. He can feel his lips straining to hold back a grin as soon as she asks.

“Oh my god,” Clint remarks. “He’s whipped.”

“Shut up,” Bucky says pointedly. “I am not whipped. But, um. Yeah. It went really well.”

His friend all just look at him with pointed stares like he’s not off the hook yet. Bucky lets out a long breath, and then gives in.

He tells them about how he had really only been going on the tinder date because his therapist said he needed to get out more, and also because the guy was gorgeous on his pictures, but how that had had nothing on him in real life. He told them that Steve was nice, and funny, and seemed genuinely interested in the world and in Bucky. They had gotten burritos for dinner and then gone for drinks and talked until the bar closed at 3 AM. Nothing had happened, he explained with a pointed look, but Steve’s place was much closer and Bucky was really tired so Steve had offered his place up.

“He’s a gentleman,” Bucky tells them. “He offered to sleep on the couch, for fuck’s sake.”

Wanda barks out a surprised, happy little laugh. Clint snorts.

“He didn’t though?” Natasha asks with a gracefully raised eyebrow.

Bucky feels himself blush, even though he knows its ridiculous. “No. I wanted to cuddle.”

Wanda laughs in earnest then, and the others join in with chuckles of their own. It’s not mean, though, not at all, and Bucky feels a laugh bubble out of his own throat at the joy he feels reverberate around the table.

“A glowing review, then?” Wanda asks, still grinning.

Bucky nods. His cheeks are warm.

“We’re happy for you, Bucky.”

--

This time, he’s almost thirty minutes late. The bell above the door still rings out in the same jingle, and Bucky still finds his friends at the same table in the back corner by the window.

He goes to them swiftly, still slightly out of breath from his power walk from the subway stop. “Hey,” he greets. “Sorry I’m late.”

Wanda rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “We’re used to it.”

Natasha checks her watch. “This is a pretty significant one, though. Have a good morning?”

Her voice is teasing and suggestive, and Bucky off-handledly gives he the finger. “Shut up.”

“That’s a yes,” she says, and Bucky wants to wipe that smug look right off her face.

Bucky still orders the blueberry waffles and a large coffee, and Clint still gets a giant strawberry milkshake. Wanda wants the fresh orange juice. The whole thing feels very familiar, like stepping into a timeless scene of unchanging comfort. Bucky basks in it.

But he’s also grinning again, thinking about Steve and how he had looked that morning, with sleepy eyes and messy golden hair, and how he had kissed Bucky goodbye with an easy, familiar ‘see you tonight’. 

Bucky hears his name suddenly, and looks up to find Natasha giving him an amused look.

“What?” he asks dumbly.

Her amused smile widens. “We were wondering if you’re free Friday. They’re playing that Scorcese movie at the Spectacle.”

“The mafia one?”

Natasha nods.

Bucky thinks for a moment. “I’ll have to see. It’s mine and Steve anniversary, but I’ll ask.”

“Not it’s not,” Wanda says quickly, and Bucky shoots her a questioning gaze. “You got together at my birthday party on the 16th, I remember.”

Bucky lets out an incredulous huff. “You guys know way too much about this relationship,” he comments. “But, yeah, sure, that’s when we made it official. But we just say the first Friday in June.”

The others nod. They must also be remembering the way Bucky came in almost a year ago, fifteen minutes late and in yesterday’s shirt.

“It’s still going well, then?” Wanda asks.

Bucky feels himself grin and blush before he’s even opened his mouth. “Yeah. Really well. I- He’s just wonderful.”

Natasha laughs. “Oh my god. Truly nothing has changed.”

“His weird haircut grew out,” Clint points out.

And before Bucky can protest that it was cute, Wanda chimes in. “But Bucky’s still sitting at brunch with a blush, giving a glowing review.”

Bucky’s blush deepens. He remembers all those months ago, when Steve had worried about what Bucky told his friends. He really needn’t have.

[elytrafemme]

i think i played sims 4 with my sister for six hours straight today?

[kellystar321]

.

[keeps-ache]

hehe. crackling

[hua-fei-hua]

it's definitely extremely funny that after i start writing a smut For Real (not clickbait) i proceed to receive. a fucking nosebleed. like this is anime.